My Saviour
by haleyrox
Summary: One shot. Brooke and Nathan.


**Author's Note: **Hey…um…here's a one-shot I decided to write out of boredom, hope you like it, and please leave feedback.

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. One Tree Hill and its characters belong to the CW or that Mark guy, whichever you prefer.

**My Saviour**

Brooke Davis saved my life. Although she doesn't know it. I mean, she _knows_, but not in the way I see it. You still don't get it do you? Well then I should explain.

I guess I should start off by telling you that my name is Nathan Scott and it all started on my eighth birthday.

It was a pool party and almost every kid on the block was invited. My parents wanted it to be a big blowout so even older kids were invited, even ones I didn't even know, Brooke Davis being one of them. She was ten years old.

When I saw her standing by my pool I was immediately smitten. I tried to muster up the courage to talk to her but I couldn't. Not even when I saw my older brother Lucas, who was also ten years old, start up a conversation with her. But then I saw her giggling at something he said and I felt the little green monster in me awaken so I walked over to the diving board.

I wanted to impress her, but when I was off that board and heading into the water I remembered that I didn't know how to swim and that I just jumped into the deep end.

I was told that she saw saw me jump and got worried when I didn't come back in so she jumped in, apparently she knew how to swim. She brought me up to the surface, and luckily since I wasn't under water for that much of a long time I came to pretty quickly.

She looked at me with a soft smile. "You should be careful next time."

I nodded, too stunned to say anything.

She smiled once more, made sure I was in the shallow end of the pool, then got out to inform my parents of my incident.

I didn't talk to her after that, but I never forgot her. I still saw her around school but I never had the guts to talk to her. I often wondered if she remembered me, but I quickly shook the thoughts from my mind, I didn't want to think about it, it hurt too much to think she didn't and it gave me false hope if I thought she did.

Entering high school I became pretty popular, but she still never spoke to me, and I didn't expect her to. It was like she was avoiding me, but then that would have to mean that she actually noticed me, which I highly doubted. But then one day while I was walking down the hallways after practice, she came up to me.

She stared at me for a moment then smirked. "You looked good today Scott."

"Uh…thanks Brooke," I said.

Then she slipped a piece of paper into my jeans, leaned up to my ear, and whispered, "Call me."

I watched her walk past me, not believing what just happened, then I pulled out the piece of paper she slipped into my pocket and smiled at the numbers that were written there.

About a week or so later I had called her. She asked me out, and I said yes, although I felt like I should have been the one to ask her out.

When she had asked me where we should go I suggested a bar. She just raised a perfectly waxed eyebrow. I admit I wasn't really subtle with my drinking and even though I was infatuated with Brooke I still had pointless hookups. What can I say? I was the bad boy of Tree Hill, but she had another idea in mind and said we should go to an arcade.

I shrugged and agreed, not wanting to deny the beautiful girl.

We went, we had fun, but I was slightly disappointed when all I got at the end of it was a kiss on the cheek. I had questioned her about that and she said that the rumors about her weren't true and that she didn't put out on the first date. That wasn't exactly what I meant, and I had told her that, I just meant why not a kiss on the lips? Didn't Nathan Scott deserve a little smooch at the end of a perfect date?

She just laughed and said 'maybe next time.'

Next time indeed.

I was actually shocked when she pushed me up against her front door and attacked my lips. She slipped her tongue in immediately which I gladly accepted, although I wished I hadn't.

It's not that I didn't enjoy it. Cause believe me I did…very, _very,_ much. But I don't think Mr. Davis enjoyed it all that much.

I was forbidden to see Brooke after that.

Mr. Davis didn't seem to know his reputation, and saw her as a sweet, innocent girl that would never participate in any kind of sexual activity.

To say the least I became very depressing after that. Brooke's dad seemed to have some kind of hold over her, because she stopped talking to me all together, never answered my phone calls, and left the room whenever I entered.

I began to drink more than I usually did…which wasn't a good thing. I always ended passing out and waking up in alley ways. One time in particular though, I woke up in Brooke's room.

She looked at me from the side of her bed with a sad expression on her face.

"What's wrong?" I asked softly.

"Why do you do this to yourself?" she asked back.

"Do what?" I asked defensively.

"You're gonna end up drinking yourself to death," she told me, somewhat angrily.

"Yeah well, who's fault is that?"

"Do not blame your problems on me," she told me firmly.

"But you are my problem," I retorted.

She shook her head in disbelief. "Do you hear yourself right now? _You_are the one that drinks crazy amounts of alcohol and it's _my_ fault?"

I stayed silent. She was right. I always let my emotions get the best of me. When I'm angry, I beat something or someone up. When I'm confused, I get frustrated, which leads to me getting angry. And when I'm sad or…hell, even happy, I drink. None of that was her fault.

"Help me," I whispered, broken, looking down at my lap.

I heard her sigh then she spoke softly, "Okay."

I looked up at her, my eyes red from trying to hold back my tears. "What about your dad?"

She shrugged. "He's gonna have to deal."

The months after that were not easy. I always wanted alcohol and when she denied me it I got pissed off and broke something. But she calmed me down, running her hands through my hair, saying soothing things into my ear.

I also dealt with her dad a few times, but I try not to think about those encounters for too long.

When I finally gave up drinking she was so happy, and that made me happy. She said I was her hero. But I just shook my head and laughed at the absurdity. Me? A hero? Hell no. She was the hero.

She put up with me to help me. She cried as she prayed for me. If I were her I would have walked away. But that's why I love her. She's so different from me. Before I thought we were so alike, with our popularity and reputations, but it turned out that she was different than I had known.

Brooke Davis saved my life, seriously and figuratively.

I know that if she didn't save me from that pool I would have died. I know if she didn't stop me from drinking, no one else would have, and I probably would have died from alcohol poisoning. But most of all I know that I would have died without her love, which is corny, but so true. I mean if she didn't love me then she wouldn't have saved me.

But she did.

She is my hero.

She is my saviour.

She is Brooke Davis.


End file.
